


Where We Left Off

by apocrypha73



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 21:09:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18240194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocrypha73/pseuds/apocrypha73
Summary: Kallus has been quite effectively avoiding Zeb since his defection, and Zeb decides he's had enough. (Set between the end of season 3 and the beginning of season 4)





	Where We Left Off

**Author's Note:**

> A little late for HotKallus day, but I hope it still counts. This is something short and sweet to try and get me back in the habit of writing. Oh, and it is unbeta'd, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.  
> It can be read as just friendship or pre-romance, depending on your personal preference.

So, Kallus was a rebel now.

That might have been an issue for some people inside the Alliance, but as far as Captain Garazeb Orrelios was concerned, it was the first really good thing to happen to their ragtag insurrection in quite some time. They’d basically traded one dangerous enemy for one competent ally, and as the saying goes, you don’t look a gift bantha in the mouth, right?

Of course, that wasn’t the real reason why he was so chill with everything. That was just the excuse he gave to whomever brought up the subject with him. Kallus’ résumé was no secret, after all, and pretty much everyone on Yavin IV knew how he’d earned the title of ‘Butcher of Lasan’. Zeb had noticed the looks, the hushed conversations whenever the ex Imperial was within his sight, almost as if they expected him to jump at the human’s throat any minute. It was tiring, and it could get on Zeb’s nerves sometimes. But even so, he didn’t feel particularly inclined to tell everyone and their mother his life story. It was easier to let people think his acceptance of Kallus had more to do with being practical than anything else.

Because his real reasons were nobody’s business but his own. What had happened on Bahryn was nobody’s business but his own. And if a tiny part of Zeb felt secretly proud at the thought that he’d had something to do with Kallus’ change of heart... Well, that  _ definitely  _ was nobody’s business but his own.

Okay, his own and maybe Kallus’.

But that was the thing. He would’ve been more than happy to set the record straight with the man himself, but apparently the damn stubborn idiot shared everyone’s stupid ideas about Zeb still hating him, and thus had been avoiding the Lasat like the plague. Which, considering the guy was a first-class spy, meant Zeb had barely seen him at all since his defection.

Seriously. He had even dodged Zeb during the trip from Atollon to Yavin,  _ inside the Ghost _ . That dude  _ was  _ sneaky.

But Zeb had finally decided he’d had enough of that nonsense.

He’d planned everything carefully. He knew Kallus used to get up very early to do his daily workout before his office hours, and if Zeb missed that window there would be no way to get his workaholic ass alone all day. So he set his alarm to wake him up before dawn, found a discreet spot from where he could watch the gym’s entrance without being seen, and waited for Kallus to come out.

His first thought had been to approach the former agent while he was still in the training room, but even at that ungodly hour there was a slight chance they’d have an audience, and that wouldn’t do. He needed to talk to Kallus in private, so he waited until he saw the man walk out of the building, all sweaty and flushed, and followed him to the barracks. He felt a little bit like a stalker for that, but what else could he do? He’d run out of options for getting a moment of privacy with Kallus. Desperate times and all that. 

He waited what he estimated was more than enough time for Kallus to shower and then he firmly knocked on the man’s door. The look of surprise on Kallus’ face when he opened would have been funny if it wasn’t so damn infuriating.

“Zeb?” he said, almost like he couldn’t believe his own eyes.

“In the flesh,” the Lasat replied. “Can I come in?”

Kallus gaped at him for half a second before shaking himself into action. “Of course,” he said, moving aside. “Sorry. Please, come in.”

His quarters weren’t very different from Zeb’s. The main room had a couch and table set, like the ones usually installed in spaceships. In front of it there was a small kitchenette equipped with a sink and a caf maker. The doors that led to the refresher and the bedroom were closed.

Zeb turned his attention to Kallus then. Just as he had expected, the man was already fully dressed except for his jacket, and his hair was wet, making it look a darker shade of blonde than usual. Zeb noticed he smelled really good, too.

“Please, have a seat,” Kallus added, gesturing to the couch behind the table. “I was about to make some caf, would you like a cup?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Zeb answered, carefully lowering his huge body onto the tiny sofa. The fact that Kallus was trying not to look at him directly hadn’t escaped him, and it seemed to him that the former Imperial was fumbling with the caf maker a little too eagerly.

“So,” Kallus said after a moment, his back to Zeb as he fussed over the machine. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Is it a pleasure? Really?” Zeb remarked, a slight hint of sarcasm lacing his voice. “I’d never have guessed, considering the way you’ve been giving me the slip all this time.”

Kallus’ hands froze above the caf maker for a moment. Slowly, he pressed the ‘on’ button and turned around, his face perfectly neutral, but Zeb knew him well enough to tell it was all a carefully rehearsed act.

“I don’t know what you mean,” the man replied calmly. “I have done nothing of the sorts, where did you get that idea?”

“I dunno. Maybe from the fact that we haven’t actually talked to each other since we got stuck on that Geonosian ice moon more than a year ago?”

Kallus pressed his lips together for a second, looking nervous. “Don’t be ridiculous. It can’t have been that long.”

“Oh, it has. You know it has, don’t play dumb with me now. Nodding to each other when we cross paths in a corridor doesn’t count as talking.”

The former Imperial crossed his arms over his chest. “Of course it doesn’t, I know that.” He sighed in frustration. “Very well, let’s say you’re right and we haven’t had a chance to talk since before I defected. It still doesn’t mean I’ve been keeping you at arm’s length on purpose. We’re in the middle of a war, Zeb. We’re both extremely busy—”

“Cut the crap, buddy.” Zeb interrupted him.

He’d used that last word deliberately, and he wasn’t disappointed by Kallus’ reaction. His eyes grew wide and his carefully mastered expression wavered for a second. It was all it took for the man to get himself under control again, but it was enough.

“Don’t give me that, ok?” Zeb pushed on, but not unkindly. “You were honest with me on that damn frozen rock. Be honest with me now.”

Kallus seemed to deflate at that. His shoulders slumped and his rigid posture collapsed a little bit, his arms untangling and hands resting on his hips. In truth, he looked more relieved than defeated, much to Zeb’s puzzlement. Maybe he was tired of pretending, too.

The caf machine made a beeping sound, announcing it had finished its task, and the delicious smell of the beverage reminded Zeb he hadn’t had any breakfast yet.

“You know what?” the Lasat said, breaking the awkward silence. “I think I’ll have that caf, after all.”

With a brief, weak smile, Kallus filled two mugs with the steaming liquid and brought them to the table, sitting at the opposite side from Zeb.

“All right, I admit it, I’ve been…,” the ex Imperial hesitated for a moment, looking for the right words, “...trying to stay out of your way as much as possible. But just to clarify, it’s not that I wanted to avoid you, but rather I didn’t want to impose myself on you.”

Zeb took a sip from his caf. It was strong and sweet, just as he liked it, and it warmed him up inside. “Yeah, I figured as much,” he said. “But there was no need for that, ya know?”

“Well, can you blame me for thinking otherwise? I may have switched sides, but nothing can make the past magically disappear. I couldn’t expect you to just forgive everything I did before I turned. That applies to the rest of your crew, too. But I did hurt you more than anyone else, so it stands to reason you’d be the one with the biggest grudge against me.”

Zeb shrugged. “You’ve also saved the lives of my friends a few times since then. The past doesn’t change, but people do. You’ve changed. And so have I, in certain aspects. I don’t carry all that weight anymore, if you know what I mean. And anyway, you could’ve asked.”

The former agent let out a shaky breath. He lowered his eyes, turning the mug between his hands. “Yeah, I probably should have done that. But I was scared you’d tell me to fuck off. At least while I didn’t know for sure, there was still a chance, right?” He sighed deeply. “I guess I’m too much of a coward.”

Despite the heavy tone in the man’s voice, Zeb couldn’t help a soft chuckle in response. “You are many things, pal, but a coward is sure as hell not one of them,” he replied gently.

Because, honestly? If accepting you’ve been wrong for your entire career and risking your life to try and make amends for your mistakes wasn’t an act of sheer bravery, then what the kriff was it? Zeb hadn’t really considered it until that very moment, but he admired Kallus for what he had done. It would have been so easy for him to ignore everything Zeb had told him during that fateful night on Bahryn, to double down on his blind faith in the Empire and push away any hint of doubt. But he hadn’t done that. He had looked at the truth in the face, even if that meant to be burdened with an impossible amount of guilt for the rest of his life. And then he had decided to do something about it instead of running, a decision that nearly cost him everything. Damn, he still had some fading bruises on his face to prove it.

Judging by Kallus’ gaze, however, it didn’t seem like the man saw it the same way.

“I still don’t understand,” he said. “How can you? I don’t think I’d be able to forgive me, if I were in your place. I know you’re a noble person, but this goes far beyond that.”

To be fair, Zeb had asked himself that same question a couple of times. He didn’t have a real answer for it, at least not in words. He only knew how he felt about it, but that was enough for him.

“The thing is,” the Lasat answered quietly, “our little stunt on the Geonosian moon changed everything. For both of us, not just you. You got yourself free from the Empire, yes, but I found peace. Like, real peace, for the first time in decades. That’s a big deal for me, man. And all it took was for us to stop trying to kill each other for a second. Don’t you see? We accomplished something amazing, you and I.”

The man stared at him for a long moment, as if Zeb was a complex riddle he was trying to make sense of. There was a hint of caution in his eyes, like he fervently wished to believe what Zeb was saying but didn’t dare yet. The human opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but apparently changed his mind and closed it again, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Look, it’s really not that complicated,” the Lasat insisted, counting with his fingers as he spoke. “We made a connection. It felt good. I want it back. Is that so hard to believe?”

Kallus closed his eyes briefly, his mouth set in an expression of painful longing. “I… I really want that connection back, too,” he finally admitted, in a soft voice. “I only wish I had your confidence in our ability to regain it.”

Zeb shrugged. “That’s fine, you don’t have to believe it now. You’ll see for yourself in time.”

Kallus smiled like he couldn’t help himself, shaking his head in amazement at Zeb’s candor. “You truly think we can make this work, don’t you?”

“I  _ know  _ we can make this work.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because hate was destroying us,” Zeb answered. “But as friends we make each other better.”

“Friends…” Kallus whispered the word with something like reverence, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. As if he didn’t see himself worthy of it.

“Yeah, friends,” Zeb repeated. “I mean, if that’s what you want.”

The look Kallus gave him was the most open and vulnerable expression Zeb had ever seen on that face. It spoke of hope, and joy, and wonder, like a child opening presents on his birthday. The man had never looked so beautiful.

_ Wow, dude. Totally inappropriate _ , he mentally scolded himself. But honestly? There was no other way to describe it.

“I can’t think of anything I want more,” Kallus finally said. Then he lifted his mug to take one last sip of caf and, using it to half-hide a smirk, he added: “I just hope it doesn’t take getting stranded again in some life-threatening place for us to reach that point.”

A slow smile spread over Zeb’s lips, lighting up his whole face. “That will depend on how stubborn you decide to be about it,” he joked. “I have an escape pod ready, just in case. Don’t make me use it.”

Kallus laughed, and the sound both warmed Zeb’s chest and made it ache a little bit. It was so different from the last time he’d heard the man snickering, back in the ice cave when Zeb was trying to climb the walls. This time it was open, sincere, and completely devoid of malice.

“So, what do you suggest we do?” Kallus said. “Just try to pick it up where we left off?”

“Well, yeah. We have some serious catching up to do, mate,” Zeb answered. “I have a ton of questions.”

“Like what?”

“Karabast, I dunno. There’s a whole year to cover.” He scratched the back of his head, trying to remember all the things he’d been wondering —and worrying— about in regards to Kallus. “Was it very hard to make the decision to change sides? Did you have anyone you could talk to, any kind of support during all this? How did you contact the Rebellion? Okay, no, first of all: how long did you have to wait on that frozen rock until the Empire found you?”

“They didn’t. I was rescued by a merchant who was in the area and picked up the transponder’s signal,” Kallus replied with a resigned smile, a passing sadness attached to it, like the echo of an old wound. “You see, the Empire has protocols for everything, including the amount of time they can spend searching for a missing officer. For me, that time had already been consumed, so they had stopped looking.”

Zeb growled involuntarily, feeling a surge of rage flooding him. “Those cold-hearted bastards,” he grunted. “I knew I should’ve taken you with me on the  _ Ghost _ . You could’ve died out there!”

“But if you had taken me prisoner, I never would’ve had the chance to become Fulcrum. And in that case, even if I had ended up betraying the Empire all the same, you could never have fully trusted me,” Kallus countered. “So maybe it was for the best that you didn’t.”

Zen mumbled something unintelligible. He wanted to protest that he would have trusted him one way or another, but deep down he knew the man had a point. If not for Zeb personally, at the very least for the rest of the Rebel Alliance it would have been difficult to accept Kallus in their ranks had he not proven himself the way he’d done.

“I still don’t like it,” Zeb grumbled anyway. “I never would’ve left you out there, injured and alone, if I had known your pals would just give up on you.”

Kallus waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Well, it was my decision, so you can hardly blame yourself for anything. And anyway, it doesn’t matter now.” He bit his lower lip, giving Zeb an apologetic look. “As for your other questions… Well, those are going to require much longer answers. Which I’d be happy to provide, but I’m afraid I have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Right, of course,” Zeb replied, feeling bummed. He got to his feet reluctantly, with no desire to leave at all. “We don’t want Mon Mothma to get mad at you for being late, right?”

Kallus stood up too, with as little enthusiasm as Zeb had. Seeing his own disappointment reflected in the other man’s face gave Zeb the comfort of knowing he wasn’t being fed a polite excuse to get rid of him. It was obvious Kallus was just as keen on staying exactly where he was. 

But alas, duty must come first.

“Perhaps we can continue this conversation later,” Kallus offered cautiously, his back to Zeb as he quickly washed the two mugs in the sink. The Lasat couldn’t get a good look at his face, but his voice sounded hopeful, and Zeb couldn’t help but beam at him.

“Sure,” he answered. “If you manage to stop working at a decent hour, we could meet up for a beer.”

Kallus chuckled softly. “I’ll try my best. At least now I have a good motivation to do so.”

They made their way to the exit in the lazy, apathetic way of two people who had suddenly remembered how awfully long it had been since the last time they’d taken a day off. Kallus took his jacket from a hook by the door and put it on slowly, sharing a knowing look with Zeb that almost made them both burst out laughing. 

Then, the man pressed his fist against the palm of his other hand and bowed his head, replicating the traditional Lasat salute Zeb had offered him when they were saying their goodbyes on Bahryn.

_ Huh _ , Zeb thought, something warm spreading through his chest as he returned the gesture.  _ He remembers. _

It was such a tiny detail, nothing of importance really, but just the fact that Kallus had paid attention and kept it in his mind made Zeb absurdly happy. When the Lasat left the barracks, he had a hint of a smile on his face and a firmer, more energetic pace than usual.

They’d taken the first step. A small one, sure, but Zeb had no doubt things would only get better from there.

He planned on making sure of it.

 

  
  
  
  



End file.
